The Deceit of Time
by MaximaPotter
Summary: Dumbledore is tired of losing, Tom riddle is a great opponent and as such he will need a great weapon. He however makes a mistake, taking someone so powerful, away from their place in time is a mistake, and time does not take well to deceit.
1. Safe

_Authors Note: welcome to the Deceit of Time. This is a long story, a slow burn, but I promise it will be worth it. Reviews and Likes encourage faster updates. Enjoy!_

"Tell me girl" a growl echoing against the stone walls. The room chills as he speaks, this man, who looks more serpent than wizard.

"Your name" he hisses slamming his bare foot on the back of her head. She spits out a tooth her vision spotted. Her black hair is matted with blood, only some of it is her own.

Her fingers touch the leather strap encircling her wrist. She utters a sigh, a moment of distraction, he would come. They all would come.

She makes eye contact with her captor, blood oozes from a gash that stretches from her hairline to her collarbone. She clenches her teeth.

"My name is Lady Potter" she grins her chin defiantly jutted out. "surely you would remember my mother's funeral, Tom." Her voice shakes, her muscles twitch.

"LIAR" He hisses, his voice more serpent than man. "crucio, crucio CRUCIO" red light strikes her.

The pain enters first through her finger tips. Her body convulses, her spine arching toward the sky. The world spins, her vision is fuzzy, a lurching feeling in her stomach and then blackness. A void of all sight.

She can hear someone screaming. A nightmare of a sound. Hoarse, like bone against concrete. Her head pulses with pain. Her neurons fire like needles in her skull.

"Now are you ready to talk", he drawls the old British town of his upbringing leaking into his voice. She spits blood at him and pushes herself off the ground with trembling limbs.

"if you want to talk feelings, at least buy me dinner first but you should know riddle- I'm taken" she grins a ghost of a smile, her teeth covered with blood.

She is Maxima, the greatest, the powerful. She is the explosion. Beautiful and devastating. Another spell. She is blinded, her mind pounding and throbbing. Her ears ring.

The ground shakes, it trembles at her will. She is no longer captive but orchestrator. Her vision returns. He is on the ground, her standing on shaking limbs but standing still.

She points her wand into his throat, his lies meters away. The trembling ground had thrown it from his hand. Electricity crackles in the dead air. Magic is palpable in the open room.

"I am Maxima Halley Potter. Once I was Hermione Granger. But I am a friend of time." Magical energy zaps across the room, there is lightning, thunder.

"know my name, know it is me that kills you, who has been killing every part of you for years. I am Maxima Potter, meet your death, Thomas Riddle."

She slices her hand through the air. It is not a spell she has learned, yet she knows at her magical core that this will kill him. He is lifted towards the ceiling and then flung to the ground. His bones shatter. His head lolls to a side. His lips are pressed into a final smile.

She collapses on the ground, someone is screaming, sobbing. He is dead they chant, it may even be her- laughing, crying, screaming. He is dead, but she has sacrificed so much for this. Her soul may be just as fragmented as his. She hears the movement of people. A camera shutter. The ringing in her ears continues. Her heart pounds.

"MAX"

A familiar voice. He has come. She knew he would. He figured it out. Hands grip her clothing, touch her face, her arms almost too hard. Safe. She is safe. For the first time in years she feels safe.


	2. An Unexpected Arrival

The Deceit of Time

Chapter 1- An Unexpected Visit

Albus Dumbledore was tired of losing, tired of death and of blood and carnage. He had been fighting for so long, there had to be another way through, a way that would preserve the light, it was all he had left-the fight for the good. Sure, there had been darkness before, those corrupted by the power, the ability magic gave. Yet none had come so sudden and with such force as Tom Riddle. It was as if one day he was a mere student, a charms protégé and the next, bodies lay mangled and strewn in his wake. In response, he had created his own weapon; a girl just as powerful, just as frightening growing just out of the focus of the public eye- his own instrument of light. She would guide the magical community through, she had to. He had sacrificed so much for her mere existence in his moment of time. He had done things, that even she, would never forgive him for.

It is a warm August afternoon in the middle of an upper-class suburb in Kingston, England where the Granger family reside. What is normally an ordinary muggle neighborhood is disrupted by the sudden appearance of an older man with long white hair long purple robes waving what appears to be a large twig, and with what appears to be no evidence of transportation. Magical energy crackles in the still air behind him.

Albus Pericivel Dumbledore has not anticipated his approach to the home to be so difficult.She had not expressed any more inclination for protection, for secrecy than the others. But a war was brewing, he knew better than most that it would do well to have her well protected.

A particularly strong charm had been cast on the home causing him to continue walking for another block each time he dared to glance at the door. After some time, he manages to cast _Finite Incantum _with enough strength to stop the spell_._ _Brilliant girl. _He smiles and pauses briefly, seeing her in the window. She had a long road ahead of her, if he were a man to feel guilt, he would most certainly feel it now. He enters the Granger home with no more difficulties.

Hermione is already at the door when he enters, he can see her fingers twitching toward her wand hidden in her sleeve. He has to be sure, of course, that she is herself.

"The first time Hermione Granger set foot in my office at Hogwarts why is she there and what do I offer her" He interrogates, his wand unwavering pointed at her throat.

_Hermione think_.

Hermione grimaces with remembrance. She had been first year and utterly terrified when Professor Snape with sneered promises of expulsion dragged her by her ear up to Dumbledore's office. He hadn't gotten his wish.

"For setting Professor Snape alight during a quittage match. You were more forgiving than he, you offer me biting bitter lemon drops." She utters, her hands tremble and her voice shakes. Were they the lemon drops or perhaps it was sugar quills? She was second guessing herself; Dumbledore's wand is pressed into her throat. Albus Dumbledore is arguably the greatest wizard alive and it is he who has his wand trained in her direction. She tastes bitterness in her mouth, _I've faced worse, he won't harm me _she chants, but she is not convinced. Hemione smells ash and a light scent of wizard's cologne. Her heart clatters against the constrains of her ribcage.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

After a long silence Dumbledore takes a step back and holsters his wand. Heart still pounding she levels her own wand's direction to her headmaster; "What did I borrow from Albus Dumbledore my third year of Hogwarts?" The room shakes slightly, the lightbulbs flicker and the kettle some distance away releases a whistle of hot air.

He raises a grey eyebrow almost jovially "A time tuner, my dear". He smiles, eyes twinkling as through he is privy to a joke she is not. He is surprised by the grit, the pure gumption, this would be useful in the time to come.

"It is quite rare piece of magic that is" He continues conversationally, his light jovial tone almost mocking her extended wand. She holsters what now, in his presence, feels like a twig she could just as easily find in a garden.

"Very good Ms. Granger. Dangerous times, one can never be too careful" He smiles and tips his head in her direction moving forward to sit upon a bright orange chesterfield. Praise by her headmaster given at any other place would have her riding euphoria for hours but there, standing in the carpeted sitting room of her family home, she feels at odds with the praise. Something wasn't right; rocks were settling in her stomach and she had the same feeling as when she was aboard an aircraft climbing in altitude. She was waiting for the fall.

"why are you here professor?" Hermione asks needing to hear whatever ill news the headmaster had come to bring.

"Harry…? Ron…?" She asks her mind on overdrive, racing through the kinds of news that Dumbledore would find the need to deliver personally.

"Both alive and well" he assures her "you will be able to verify their safety soon enough, but I assure you, the two are in good health". He gestures her to join him on the chesterfield. An action to which she obliges, eager for an explanation to his presence.

"What I am about tell you must never be repeated. There would be consequences in the most dire. Lives would be lost." She nods in affirmation, understanding very quickly that this was briefing, not condolence call.

"Ms. Granger, you are one of my brightest most promising students, and this may very well be one of the most difficult things you will endure, but I must ask that you endure. There are things that I will ask of you that are difficult, those that may cause your wary, question your resolve but Voldemort is growing more powerful each day he does not waver, does not hesitate and kills with no remorse. The time for action is upon us, I'm afraid that The Order of the Phoenix must asks that you join, aid in their mission to fight those who wish the world peril, those who wish to harm, and those that seek to destroy."

Hermione's eyes widen, she is both terrified and satisfied. Full of both pride and terror. Happy to finally be a part of the fight, and terrified of what that could mean. Dumbledore made it sound much more dangerous that just strategy meetings.

"What exactly is the Order of Phoenix sir?" Hermione asks, "The answer to that is much easier to show than tell".

He conjures two cups of tea, sipping his causally as if they were old friends catching up, or discussing her future academic career, instead of the darkest parts of their world. He looks at her observing, gauging her reaction. Satisfied that no outburst was imminent, he continues.

"Should you accept, there would be danger. Your chances of surviving this war will be much less. Yet, we need you, the order, the light, the good- with a mind like yours on our side, we may still stand a chance". Hermione's head spun, a secret organization, her death, it all swirled messily together. Her spoon splashed hot liquid against the side of her cup. She sipped slowly, giving herself a moment before she had to respond to what was a great request.

"Death is one of the inevitable things." Hermione spoke looking up from her tea. "The magical world lets us live longer, but there is an end- eventually there will be a time in which I no longer exist. Whether I participate or not this is a surety, but I cannot idly sit by as people die. I read the papers sir, I know it is getting worse. Even if I do survive, even if we do lose, I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I could have done something. My mind and my capabilities are at the service of the Order."

A pregnant silence descends the room. The pair observes each other, there was little left to be said. "The order is most grateful for your contribution, as am I. The next- "

Dumbledore is interrupted by the formidable and cross looking Jane Granger. "This is enough! How dare you." She glares pointedly at the headmaster. "Absolutely not. DEATH?! Fighting?! My daughter will have no part. This is where I put my foot down all this foolishness of magic, the dark and the light. Hogwash. Bloody lunacy. My daughter will not be going near you or your corruptive _magical _world any longer."

Jane Granger, Hermione's mother, stood at five feet two inches but was a force of nature. She had been observing in the kitchen until her outburst. She was dressed in a well pressed pantsuit, clean cut and without a hair out of place. Her husband stood meekly beside her, dressed well but was the picture of submissiveness that was typical in the Granger household. This household was clearly a matriarchy and Dumbledore had stepped on the Queen's metaphorical foot.

Dumbledore look bashful, it had been a long time since anyone, muggle or magic had scolded him. Red coloring adorned his cheeks, without regard for the wizard's age or power. "Now, Mrs. Granger- "he begins.

"I WILL not hear another word from you, and ask that you leave before I call the police" Mrs. Granger threatens, her hands positioned at her hips- a power position her therapist called it- those who knew the woman personally merely called it angry or another Tuesday.

Hermione took a step forward, her eyes brimming with fresh tears "Mum, I can't give this up. I'm not like you, I'm a witch you can't just wish it away…"

The matriarch merely commands "Hermione, go to your room now. You and I will discuss this later."

"I'm so sorry" Hermione shaking, softly whispers and points her wand at her mother

_Confundous. Stupify._

Mrs. Granger fell to the ground, unmoving, at least for the next half hour. Tears streak down her face but Hermione wipes them away with her hand and takes a deep breath composing herself. She glanced at her father warily, wand pointed "ill grab your case from the garage" was all he says before leaving her to pack her things. She had to go. She didn't know where she would go but she couldn't stay here.

"it would be wise to grab a few things; I imagine it will be a while before you return." Dumbledore speaks softly. Hermione's face turns hot and bright red realizing at the scene her headmaster just witnessed. _How embarrassing._

Hermione's heart clatters against her ribcage, _I can't believe I just did that. _It is now she feels like a foreigner in this place, her wizarding robes catching in the cool wind. It no longer feels like her home. It isn't by accident the two worlds are kept apart, muggle and wizards, they were too different. Muggles would always fear of the unknown, they could never cast spells or transfigure themselves into animals. Hermione is pulled out of her thoughts by the screeching of an owl diving in their direction.

The snow-white colored bird dropps a letter in Dumbledore's hand. The letter is half charred and looks as if it has weathered a storm or two but neither pay its appearance any mind. The owl snaps its jaw at Hermione catching her wrist. _Bloody bird_.

"quite the ill-trained creature" Dumbledore remarks reading the letter. Hermione does not miss the seal, a phoenix. She has no doubts on which group is responsible for the letter. She has had butterflies in her stomach before, but the nerves of what was so surely beginning had swarms of bees congregating in her stomach. "We must be going; we have been expected some time ago" he says nodding firmly.

Without warning he grasps hold of her arm firmly and Hermione finds herself ripped through space magic violently thrusting her to her destination.


	3. A Journey to an Familiar Place

The Deceit of Time

Chapter 2- A Journey to a Familiar Place

There is almost an eerie silence in the air as Dumbledore all but drags an apparation-sick Hermione through a lamplight street. They move fast, unsaid words about the pace of their movement is clear, it is dangerous to linger. They are somewhere in London; of this she is sure. Normally she would ask for more details, more information but she remains quiet preserving the encompassing silence. _Normally_ she almost scoffs at the word. Normal was left with her stupifed mother lying on their sitting room floor. _Her poor mother_ she groans inwardly, _her mother was going to kill her_.

Her stomach is agitated and tumbles like an off-balance washing-machine, _don't hurl_. Hermione begs herself. Retching on the curbside in front of her headmaster, the great Albus Dumbledore is something out of a nightmare. She is quite certain, that she has had this nightmare, it ends quite spectacularly when she realizes she is in a state of undress. She glances down at her robes; today she is thankfully suitably dressed.

Dumbledore is surprisingly agile man considering his years. Hermione, despite being the younger one out of the two, struggles to keep up with him as he hurries down the sidewalk. He holds up a hand halting their movement abruptly as he faces the edge, a corner of a single floor walk-up building.

"Professor…?" Hermione breaks the silence unable to stop herself when he seems so utterly lost. Dumbledore doesn't respond but merely gestures that she waits.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Hermione looks warily around them; he looks like a mad-men loudly tapping his wand on the stone.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The earth shakes. The ground beneath their feet seems to be pulsing and the air around them turns cold. Her breath catches. She draws her wand gripping it tightly and looks skeptically at her surroundings. Dementors had a bad habit of appearing when the temperature descended, and she knew better than be caught off guard. Her heartbeat thuds in her ears in sync with Dumbledore's tapping. Her teeth chatter.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dumbledore slams his fist against the stone, and it begins to move, a large ominous building appearing that folds itself into existence. She knew this place _Twelve Grimaud Place,_ but the large intimating building guarded by iron cast gates never seemed to make her feel comfortable, no matter how many times she had been here.

Dumbledore knocks thrice and enters yanking Hermione by the hand through the doorway when she lingers just a moment too long. The wind seems to scream in the street behind them. He slams the door shut. Hermione sits on the steps just past the entrance needing a moment to compose herself while Dumbledore can't seem to move through to place fast enough.

"Alastor Moody?" She hears him call, almost in the distance and she lets herself take a breath. A deep breath, the first one in what seems like hours.

"I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you" The familiar voice of Remus Lupin greets her, though his face lined with scars a result of many moons, the corners of his mouth curve upward. She hadn't seen such an occurrence in quite some time.

"You just say that because I send chocolate with my letters" Hermione replies unable to keep the grin off her face. She had kept in contact with him after his short tenure as a Hogwarts professor. It had started with a question about Animagi, but the letters had continued with back and forth book recommendations and all sorts of discussions.

"That is neither here nor there" Remus replies dismissively

"Shakespeare" she states pausing for a moment thinking; "muggle" she says at last, uncertainty layered in her voice.

"Wizard. Have you seen the amount of literature he composed, and the absurdity in some of them, Midsummer Night's Dream perhaps?" Remus replies raising an eyebrow, his eyes almost twinkling. His voice is raised, excitedly speaking about literature. For a moment he feels as though he is a professor again. He is light, young and alive.

Hermione responds by handing over package of chocolate from her robes his award, her sacrifice for being incorrect. Remus accepts the gift without hesitation a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

They do not speak anymore, Hermione knows that this week in particular was difficult for him, but she can't seem to find any words. Sometimes there simply isn't anything to say. Remus pops a square of chocolate in his mouth, and gestures her to follow. There was a meeting to attend, no matter the time of year, they had all lost someone, now, they were just preventing more loss. One day they would lick their wounds, grieve, hurt and continue on but now they couldn't afford the time, they had to keep fighting.


	4. The War Room

Chapter 3- The War Room

_Authors note:_

_thank you for reading, don't forget to favorite and follow for updates. The next chapter is added once a week but sometimes more. I welcome any and all comments, suggestions and observations. I solemnly swear I am up to no good. _

Remus leads Hermione to a room deep into the maze that is Twelve Grimauld place. The room is large colored in deep green, papers are tacked to the walls, drawings, articles placed in all available spaces. A long table sits in the center surrounded by chairs almost all filled with members. A girl with bright pink hair is placing feathers on the sleeping form of Kingsley snorting as she adds another to the stack. Remus takes his seat nodding to a few as he settles in.

The room turns quiet as Hermione enters, all eyes follow her as she takes the remaining seat nestled between Sirius Black and Luna Lovegood.

"Hermione, brilliant you're here." The familiar voice of Sirius Black calls as she enters. He has filled out since she's last seen him, a proper diet and dementor free existence did do wonderous things. Today his hair is tied back, and he is wearing a 'Screaking Sirens' wizarding band t-shirt making him look more like a teenage boy than a man especially not one who had spent the last decade is one of wizarding world's worst prisons.

Hermione does not miss the chocolate bar that he slides across the table to Remus, or the small smile the old friends share. For all the two had lost, at least they had each other.

Hermione feels a surge of missing her own friends, Harry and Ron, there was so much going on without them by her side. She needed them, that and copious amounts of research. They were backbone, her courage, she could use a little of that right now.

At first there is silence surrounding the table upon her arrival but this does not last.

Molly Weasley is the first to speak "She is too young. A child! What were you thinking bringing her here? This table is not for the ears of children." She glares at Remus. Hermione does not doubt that lack of presence of her friends was wholly due to this woman.

"We were children too once Molly! Children and we sat at the table, why is she any different? She volunteered just like every member of this table; she knows the risk. We are getting slaughtered, we could use someone new, fresh blood, new perspective." Sirius is the first to respond, standing up across from Mrs. Weasley, his arms are crossed and his hands play with a gallon. She swares it glows at times.

"She will be fresh blood soon enough, fresh SPILT blood. Sirius Black, blood on your hands. Should my children be in here just as well?" Her face is red, her hands a balled tightly into fists.

"you want to separate them, your own kids. _SURE_. _FINE_. But that is not your child. You know who doesn't separate, who doesn't discriminate against youth for their age, Riddle. Tom Riddle indiscriminately kills, doesn't matter if you join the meeting of not, but I bloody well would think you'd rather have your kids informed-" Sirius is cut off by Luna Lovegood.

"Apologies all" she rises from her seat non-confrontational, but heads snap in her direction when she speaks. She wears a headband full of feathers and a purple velvet waistcoat. She was Luna, through and through.

"Perhaps it is not our decision whether Hermione should occupy a seat, but rather her own. Muggleborn's are very much in danger and she may very well be the most famous one. Her aura is particularly bright, I think she'll be a wonderful addition" Luna smiles gazing inches above Hermione's head.

"Molly, you might have a particularly aggressive Nargle clouding your mind. I have the most wonderful charm that would help" Luna continues. "it even smells an awful like fresh grass" she smiles happily at the thought.

"Luna.. er.. that's really fine, I don't need a charm…thanks dear" Mrs. Weasley mumbles, reduced to awkwardness by the eccentric girl. Hermione had been surprised to see the mild-mannered girl at the table at first, but she now saw the appeal.

Hermione almost chokes from surprise when she sees the pink haired Tonks pass Luna a sickle.

Mutterings continued amongst the members, all looking at Hermione suspiciously but none speak directly again. The volume begins to pick up, a few sit in their chairs arms folded over their chests.

"SILENCE." Dumbledore roars.

"Ms. Granger was invited by my request and it would do well to quite any protests on the matter. She is widely considered the brightest witch of her age. I quite agree with with her brilliance, something we all will surely benefit from. The scheduled updates may begin." Dumbledore speaks, several members faces turn red in embarrassment. He was very impressive, his ability to tame a crowed, stamp out a dispute in minutes.

Shakelbolt is the first to speak "there is a new legislation being enacted under the undersecretary Umbridge" he pauses to look guiltily at Remus. "Starting next week, it will be illegal to hire anyone with lycanthropy and it will be illegal not to disclose the condition. The punishment is lifetime in Azkaban. I suspect there has been some imperious spells used to push it through, nothing I can prove of course" he mouth is pressed in a hard line. He was powerless to such things.

Arthur Weasley is the first to speak "how completely preposterous. Remus you can fight it -lobby the ministry." His face goes red, already formulating a plan. Remus shakes his head firmly "this isn't news Arthur, we knew this was coming, it's been an unsaid rule for years its now just legislated. Ill survive."

The rest of the meeting passes in a blur, Luna talks about a meeting with the minister of magic in Switzerland that went well but not well enough, others update the list of missing persons, confirmed deaths, when finally all eyes rest at Moody.

"Bloody Hell, I guess it's my turn innit" Moody starts, tacking a series of papers on the war rooms walls. Blood and carnage littered the pages, _calm Hermione calm_ they barely allowed her at the table.

Moody clears his throat sweat beading on his brow "Hannah Abbot was murdered two nights ago. Her hand was delivered to the Auror offices in a bloody parcel yesterday. The bastards cut her in pieces. This is the fourth muggleborn murder we can confirm. They are getting bolder." He holds up a photo, severed members cover the page. Hands, fingers, toes, Hermione wants to hurl. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. Sirius squeezes her hand. It is brief that Hermione cant be sure she hadn't imagined it. But the pressure, the simple gesture is enough for her to refocus.

Hermione raises her hand then speaks "Professor, Moody, the dismemberment, was she alive when it happened. Was it is a method of torture or a message of cruelty or perhaps both?" Her fist is balled an attempt to keep the shaking out of her voice. _Hermione focus._

Moody barks a laugh "Merlin girl. Its just Moody." He adjusts his eye and then continues "the girl was severed alive, the bastards. Think it was to prove they could." He pauses, as if he wishes he didn't have to continue.

"There's another thing. They wrote a bloody love letter" he passes around photos, the words _Thief, and death to all mudbloods_ is written on a room wall, written the blood.

"Is that…?" Molly asks her voice taught.

"Blood? I'm afraid so" Dumbledore responds, the room looks dejected, some look sick and others angry. The girl who formally had pink hair now sported a blue bob. Sirius has a hand balled up in a tight fist. Arthur weasly is positively red with rage. Remus looks as though someone has taken the floor from under his feet.

The room feels dark. It is as though there has never been a happy thought. Hermione cant stop looking at the photos, her classmate in pieces, her head lolled to the side, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The room is cold.

Hermione doesn't hear the meeting adjourn. She doesn't register the people leaving all her mind is a swirl of Hannah past and the way she died. Her head pounds.

"Your assignment will come this week, I'll owl with the details" Dumbledore speaks to her, his voice sounds coarse, gravely opposed to the melodic grandfather tone he usually takes. He exits solemnly, the world feels like a dark place. The world had really become a dark place.

Hermione stares at the photos. Hannah, who was intelligent, a Hufflepuff- beautiful _AND _brilliant. Who dated Oliver Wood. Who Hermione had discussed healing with. Who never minded to mingle with those of other houses. Who was in pieces, her blood splashed on her kitchen walls. Who was dead. It felt surreal.

"You're staying the night" Sirius says beside her. Hermione barely hears his voice over her own heartbeat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She had no idea Voldemort performed this kind of gratuity. This kind of torture. She had just been thrown in the deep end. But She was Hermione Granger- Brightest witch of her time. She would do her best, be the best order member there ever was.


	5. A Life Lived

Life Lived

"Hannah was dear to many, a friend, a girlfriend, a daughter, she will be missed. She was a light in what has become a very dark world" a voice speaks in a tone that is harrowing. Hermione looks around, a headache grinding into her temples. Gravestones and people mourning surround her, most of them are order members. Oliver wood is sobbing into Fred Weasley's shoulder, but the sound carries in the still air. The pain in her head flashes hard and hot. If only her head would stop pounding. The casket is being lowered into the earth, she smells the soil and the whiskey Sirius who stands a head taller than she, reeks of- firewiskey his poison of choice. She closed her eyes, fighting off nausea. Luna speaks, delicately and lovely about Hannah's wonderful aura, and the way she had the most gentle soul and an exquisite smile. Hermione is trying to focus but her mind was elsewhere. Instead trying, through the pain, to remember how she had arrived in this place, a week from the last thing she remembers. Panic bubbles up towards the surface.

Sirius nudges her, all eyes look at her, waiting, expecting. Hermione struggles to remain above the fog. She supposes she meant to speak. Her hands shake, she would only get one chance to say things right. She clears her throat.

"Hannah was bright and wonderful and funny these are true. But Hannah was more than just a great friend, she was the fiercest of warriors. She would stand up in anyone's defense if she felt they were suffering injustice. No matter who they were. She wanted to heal, others, and the world. The world is now a much darker place without her, she was light, and this is a gave loss."

Hermione pauses the back of her skull pounding, her eye weld up some combination of both grief and pain.

"Hannah would not have liked to see us so sad at her- "She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. A shaky breath. "-death. So, we use this, become the warriors we need to be, that she would like us to be, that the light does not suffer any more losses." Hermione voice trembles, her hands shake. Tears slip out of her eyes. "Hannah was one of my greatest friends, she will be irrevocably missed. Hannah, may we meet again." Hermione bends down to touch the earth. She conjures a single daffodil, a private joke between the friends. Her shoulders shake, silent sobs escaping. She places the flower on the grave. A deep breath. Others follows suit and a series of flowers follow.

Sirius had been to too many funerals, had seen most of his friends the good kind of people, fighting for the right side, die. This one, stung particularly deep despite his lack of a real friendship with her, she was a young girl, the same age as _her_. It was too close, too familiar_. _This is why he had stalked out into the sun, only after consuming the better half of a bottle of Ogden's firewiskey and taking the rest with him. It was surreal he could almost hear the words of _her_ funeral, see _her _casket, _their _friends most that had died in the years since, mourning _her._

_He was nineteen, an age that would've been full of life and adventure but on that rainy Saturday he had buried the only woman he had loved and would ever love. He hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye one moment they were riding his motorbike away from a muggle concert the air smelling like summer and cheap spirits. A week later all that was left of her could fit into a matchbox. His raven-haired beauty, a laugh like the rainstorm, and a smile that was a promise of danger. Her- Maxima Halley potter was gone. _

"_Here we stand, to bid farewell, Maxima Potter, daughter of Dorthea sister of James. She will be greatly missed by all those who knew her." A man, the ministry official spoke speaking of a girl he had never met. _

_Sirius stood next to Remus, he had yet to discover the numbing effect of whiskey if drunken in copious amounts, had had been devastatingly sober. James and lily huddled close together, Alice, Mary, sobbing. Dorthea had asked him to speak, years later, Sirius supposed it was a kindness, a way for him to get a goodbye he never had, but it had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. _

"_Max was beautiful, brilliant and exquisite. I have never met a creature to be so sure, so read to jump into firefight, to know what is right. Hell, I question it daily, it is a world of grey but max knew she knew what battles to fight and which bridges to mend. She was a fucking ray of light in sodding dark world. She would sneak off for ice cream but jinx you if you didn't study, didn't do you absolute best. She demanded that- not perfection but that you put everything into being the best you could be. I am a better person having known her. Having loved her- "his voice cracks and he looks far into this distance. _

"_Max you are the love of my life. I would've spent the rest of life fighting the dark with you and bringing a smile to your face and have been completely content. I'm not ready for goodbye. You promised me no more goodbyes. Dammit max you bloody promised." _

_Sirius us screaming or sobbing no one is quite sure but dorthea holds his hand and suddenly she isn't max's mum but the woman who took him in when no one wanted him. They would get through this she silently promised. Together. This loss would make them strong. _

"_Maxima Potter, Morgana welcomes you with open arms. May we meet again." Hearts thud, Dorthea grasps both Sirius and James hands. _

"_We first remove the air; Maxima has breathed her last." The ministry man speaks a wave of his wand and a faint blue glow overtakes the casket he has removed the air. Preserving her. Sirius collapses to his knees his own breath missing. How do I… Breath.. if she's dead. He thinks, unable to even speak the words out loud. _

_We remove the water, your thirst of knowledge was never quenched, but the world of the elders has no corporal bounds. Another wave. A sharp intake of air. _

_We give back to the earth, of magic into the ground that it may find a future to grow with. The casket lowers to the ground. Dozens of orchids find themselves on top right before the dirt is piled on. No one has to look up to guess who had conjured them. He knew. Sirius grabs the first handful of dirt. _

"_Rest softly, Max. We will meet again. Promise." He chokes back a sob. It was so wrong. She shouldn't be there. _

"_Little sisters aren't supposed to beat me to the finish line cheater. I'll miss you, my best mate. Don't tell Sirius." James throws the next handful of dirt. _

_Lilly, then Mary, one by one they say their goodbyes until all is left is dorthea and Sirius. _

_My beautiful baby girl. I will avenge you. I will miss you desperately. I'll take care of him, all of them, well finish what we started, even if it kills me. Dorthea, sticks a perfect manicured hand into the dirt, it is rich and earthy. It seeps under her fingernails, but she pays it no mind. Her baby is dead, none of it matters. She throws a clump of dirt. _

_Sirius lies on his side staring on what now is a pile of earth. _

"_I'll love you forever, promise. His hand dives into the earth. In his head she holds his hand back. He can almost feel her small slender fingers sloping to fill the spaces between his own. _

_Dorthea doesn't say anything not even when Remus and James pile in to lie next to Sirius lying in the surrounding ground. She just leads the rest of the group away; they didn't need an audience. _

"_How do I do it without her" a heart wrenching sob, he asks having found his voice, no one in particular. _

"_We show up" Remus says "we continue, imagine if she could see us now. Bloody tossers she say" he continues "before joining us" pipes in James knowing his sister all too well a ghost of grin on his lips, it fades almost as soon as it appears. "Well kill them, all of them" James promises his hands shaking, but Sirius just shakes his head dirt getting into the free locks. "I don't care" he speaks in a small voice "none of it matters I just want her. Fuck I can't feel like this forever I just need to feel something else."_

_Remus takes out a firewiskey bottle from his cloak and the three pass it around. Like they had so many times before. Sirius insist they pour some on her grave. No one mentions that is liquor isn't cheap or that the dead can't feel its effects. They all need to share one last drink with her. One more before they have nothing left._

_They lie there long after the rain begins to pour long even after the thunder rumbles. This was their goodbye, just for them. No one was ready to put an end to it. No one could bring themselves to. They all got sick for a week after, but none had complained, or had even spoken about to why. They all knew and hadn't even for a second regretted it. Their best friend deserved a proper sendoff._

Sirius looks at Hermione, sobbing as she speaks over Hannah's grave. It takes everything he has not to grab her and hide her away. Protect her from the future, his past. Meddling with time would kill them all. Dumbledore had instilled that into him over the years. Sirius takes a large swig of whiskey.

He visits Max's grave after the service, sips firewiskey and for the first time in twenty years he pours some over her grave, a drink between old friends. He sits and talks to her as old friends do, his hand rests in grown over grass. Orchids sit in several vases surrounding the headstone underneath her name a small script reads "Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail bid thee Silvershaddow mischief managed".


	6. Burned

_Authors Note: Thank you for reading and keeping with this story. This chapter is slow but I promise the set-up is necessary. _

CHAPTER SIX- BURNED

June 1996

Sunshine touches her cheek, warm and floating. She dreams she is sinking, but there is no pain, just serenity. She is the center of a lightning storm, the faces of her friends far in the distance. Horror, they look horrified. Even sweet dream Hannah Abbot hangs her head. Hermione lurches to reach them, desperate, wanting. There is laughter in the distance, water splashing, and she slowly sinks below the surface. "MAX" a voice jolts her awake, Hermione can't be sure if the voice was part the dream or not.

Sirius Black is at her bedside, handsome and disheveled. The smell of smoke brings her forth to upright consciousness. The blue dawn of early morning covers the horizon outside her window. Her bedsheets are charred and the chair where there once was her cloak and a majority of her belongings now held only scotch marks. _What had happened. _

Hermione takes a regretful glance at her nightwear; cartoon rabbits adorn her t-shirt and her shorts. Her cheeks heat up and color red. She is again sixteen; juvenile and a child sporting a crush that will not be reciprocated but tumbling over words, nevertheless.

"What happened" She asks finally, addressing the male in her bedroom who seems to be looking anywhere but her eyes. What she means is there appears to have been a bomb that went off without her knowledge and she seemed to have slept through it. But there is a weight of more than accidental magic. Silence that feels pregnant.

He doesn't question her remark. There would be no point, the charred remains of her belongings were proof enough, he had only just cast a spell to subdue the flames. Sirius ran a hand through his long black hair his mouth perking up into a smirk knowingly. _That smirk._ Hermione, book smart crazy intelligent Hermione, could be brought down with that smirk.

"Magic" it is all he says. He wants to say more. But she is not ready to hear what he has to say, and he is not sure he could find the words if she were. For once, for him, Hermione and not Max is the most comforting thing in the world.

The pair don't speak any more words. Hermione is fluttering on trapped butterflies in her stomach and Sirius is trying to look at Hermione without seeing Max's face. The two women that were so similar almost sharing a face but so far apart.

He makes his exit mumbling a few words about making tea receiving only a nod in response. Hermione turns to grab items for her shower. She doesn't see the way Sirius Black pauses at the door. The way he stares at her, a desperate man.

Remus finds him moments later; Tea with strong hints of flightburbon. Remus had seen it before and knew no other course of action then take a seat.

The two old friends do not talk, just share tea breathing in the morning, as the sun begins to rise. a long pause and big question:

"how long?" Remus asks, it's a simple question yet It asks so much. How long until It all changes.

"her birthday." Sirius responds, having heard the story many times and gone through it in his head more than he could fathom in the past decades.

"how does she leave?' Remus asks, regretting it almost immediately. He uncomfortably runs a hand against his stubbled cheek, the sound audible in the dead air. He knew the touchy subject he had stumbled upon, but _she_ was always difficult.

A deafening silence before Sirius, his voice hard and rough like sandpaper;

"she never told me".

Minutes later Hermione smelling less like a campfire and more like lavender sits perched on the stairs, nervous to move. She is clothed in muggle jeans and a worn jumper, accidently overhearing the conclusion to her hosts conversation. It was their home and she wanted to give some semblance of privacy, but the name, Max, rung like an alarm. She made note to look up the person, she had never met her before, a friend from school perhaps? Or maybe one of the many order members who had died in the early days.

Dumbledore entered the house determined. He had made requests of people before, Harry Potter and other witches and wizards but she, she was his prized possession the hidden gem. She would be their salvation, even if it would be at her great cost. A request for her held more weight, each action she made forming who'd she become.

He saw her now, perched on the stairwell eavesdropping on a conversation in the kitchen. She is young now, not as old as she'd become nor as young as he'd seen her. Time was a fickle thing, and she had a long way to go.

"Ms. Granger, I ask briefly for your audience" he called barely looking in her direction.

It was a dangerous ground he stood on, time rewriting itself and folding over onto its own. She followed him to the study, two sitting chairs facing the overstuffed bookshelf.

"I am going to ask you to do things In the next few weeks. You will ask no questions and you will follow the directive to the letter." He looked as her the lines of confusion folding into her forehead. He remembered the baby she was when he first met her, sparking with magic like he had never seen before. He. Needed. her.

Dumbledore slid a stuffed envelope across to her, on the coffee table that separated the two. It was closed with the red order seal and items made noise as they made contact.

"I'll give you some time to read" Dumbledore nodded and stood popping a candy from his cloak into his mouth.

"stawberrythrasher?" he questioned holding the twitching pink candy in her direction. She shook her head.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes creasing and made his way to the door and just as he was about to leave he turned abruptly. Looking Hermione in the eyes, void of smile for the first time since Hermione had met him.

"wear a cloak Ms. Granger, hood on. These are dangerous times. The order thanks you for your service."

A pause and then a tense look crossed his features "Tell no one. No matter what happens. No one is to know." And with nothing more he disappeared, disappearing into thin air despite the anti-apparition wards that coursed so strongly throughout the house.

Hours later when she had delved into the envelope in her slightly smoke smelling room she was shaken. Not for the assignment, but rather, the unease and fear she had felt by the way Dumbledore had looked as he left. _These are dangerous times. _The sentiment echoed in her mind on loop for hours.


	7. The Man in the Pub

_Authors warning: this chapter includes mature themes, and/or the suggestion of mature themes. Trigger warning: this chapter includes implications suggestions of violence sexual in nature. Did you know that asking for an Angel Shot at almost any pub or bar will have the bartender seek help and can get you out of a situation you feel unsafe. Be Safe out there._

A MAN IN A PUB

June 1996

It had been difficult to convince Remus and Sirius to let her leave and by difficult she meant that she hadn't told them.

"And where do you think you're going" Asked Sirius as she tried to sneak out early evening to complete her assignment. She was clothed in all black, wizarding robes which she rarely adorned herself with, but tonight she was going to a place that was not friendly to muggles. Just in and out. She could do this.

Sirius walked slowly towards her, standing inches from her. She could smell the spearmint of his toothpaste, the wizards cologne he smelt like and firewiskey. He always smelt like firewiskey.

"Hermione" he growled. Her name tumbled awkwardly off his tongue, he never used it.

"Where could possibly be going" His voice raised angrily. "I know you aren't leaving dressed like that because you fancy a stroll, so where are you going?" He stated darkly.

He knew and just as well he knew he could not stop her. But if he didn't at least try, well then we wasn't Sirius black.

"I can't tell you" She mumbled back in a small voice her eyes fixed on a split in the wood flooring. Still sweet shy Hermione Granger.

"Then you're not leaving" Sirius took a step back in what she saw was anger and what to him, was some semblance of restraint.

"You can't tell me what to do" She answered defiantly, her fingertips sparking her hands curled into fists. Most, she would learn, would fear the magic coursing through her veins the kind that caused the sparking, but **he** stepped closer again. The way he looked at her, hungry, Hermione did not feel like a child sneaking out of her home at night but rather a women. A beautiful women at that

Remus descended stairs, clearing his throat startling the pair that were inching closer still.

"BLACK" Sirius startled, taking a few steps back. Remus looked disheveled, as if he had already been sleeping, with a full moon arriving in a matter of days, Hermione was not surprised.

"Hermione" when he spoke her name, it was different, comforting.

"You are not a hostage here" Remus Lupin smiled at her and she nodded. His kind eyes seemed to soften at her. She felt the tinge of guilt at awakening him. _If only Sirius hadn't- _she though glaring at the man in front of her.

"I do suggest some caution, do what you must but return with expediency, it is no longer safe to be caught about after dark." Remus continued looking at her knowingly.

He pressed a golden sickle into her palm. The coin felt hot and her fingertips fell across scripted letters. She thumbed the edges, nervous; "should you need a quick escape" was the last thing Remus Lupin said to her before turning to Sirius. Hermione quickly took this opportunity to slip out the door and apparate to her desired location.

The pub looked dark, evil, even from the outside. It was dimly lit and the unscrupulous characters that stood outside taking what Hermione could only guess to be hallucinogens did not encourage her in the slightest. _Go in, hand over the note, the vial and get out._ She could do this.

She saw her target immediately after stepping foot in, she made eye contact but quickly moved towards the bar. Being prior to her 18th birthday, she was not legal to drink, but she hoped that a place like this would not check ID.

"What can I get for you" an old Wizard gruffly questioned from behind the counter. He looked exhausted, white hair singed partially black for some recent accident. He repeatedly glanced at the doorway, nervously.

"fluburburbon" she responded dryly, her head held high. This wasn't the place for manners and niceties.

She placed the correct money on the counter. Tipping slightly that the barkeep would not be upset but not enough that it would cause a second glance. The details, these she had thought out but fear and panic settled in each time she thought of approaching the target. She sipped on her bitter drink quietly. Repeating her mission in her head. _Give him the note, slip the vial in his pocket, get out_.

The man, Bertrand Reislaught, approached sitting down on the alongside stool. "You've been staring" he asserted gruffly, and Hemione's heart beat out of her chest. _This_ was not in the plan.

What to say. What to do. She gripped her wand, no that would be a fight she'd lose. Besides the cluster of wizards he had been drinking with would be sure to that she wouldn't leave alive. Thinking quick she took a sip of her drink and in the darkest emotionless voice she could muster; "and what if I have".

The man laughed, a sound that was like sandpaper, a hand on her knee "then that seems like something I should do something about". Hermione forced herself to not flinch from the touch and instead took another sip from her drink. She had not prepared for this, her fumbled kisses with Victor Krum and Ron Weasley had granted her very little insight into the male mind.

She looked at him from under her eyelashes trying to remember every tip she had ever watched from movies. "and what do you suppose you're to do?". She hoped her tone was playful like she intended, not fearful like she felt.

He touched his lips to her ear, "teach you better than to stare a man without repercussions" He all but growled. She moved away ever so slightly. She was in control. Letter, vial, leave. She chanted internally, ignoring the rising panicked feeling she felt. Her skin felt hot and she had to pay special attention that her hands not shake.

"why don't you buy me a drink first" she laughed falsely, in the shrill high-pitched way the girls in her dorm often did. She needed something, a distraction. HE was too close and she was too scared. This was supposed to be easy, now it was far from simple. He ordered her another, and one for himself, smiling at her uncomfortably. Smiling like he was looking at dinner.

Hermione was buying time. Note, Break the vial, leave. It was supposed to be easy. Now she wasn't sure if she'd ever leave. Not alive anyways. One check over her shoulder confirmed the dancing serpent and skull tattoo many were sporting in the bar. She wouldn't trust them to ask questions before sending curses her way should this man get upset.

Notes, vial, leave. She chanted, her mind stuck on the vial. It was the hardest part and she may never leave this bar. With this in mind she impulsively emptied the vial in his glass, the clear substance tinged his drink blue, and her heart caught in her throat. She had no idea what it was, only that she had to give it to him, it didn't look safe, but she had no choice. She was just lucky he was paying more attention to her body than what her hands were nimbly slipping into their drinks. She dropped the remaining amount in her glass, its color too changing blue.. She had no idea what she'd done.

"Merlin's saggy balls this is good" He said gulping his drink down, belching loudly. "Hurry on, finish that drink, I don't spent gallons on just any witch" she obliged and finished her drink quickly, unsure what she had just done or even how to get out.

"now if brought you a drink, you'll give me what I deserve". He gestured for her to follow him outside and Hermione not knowing any other course of action followed.

It is already cool, the evening drop in temperature biting despite her layers. Her hands shake, but Hermione is sure that it is the unsettled panic that has caused in movement in her not the potion. Well, she is almost sure.

She can feel his presence beside her, he the target whom was never supposed to see her face. She wants to leave but she has come so far, she needed to finish. The instructions were clear, letter tucked in the left side of his cloak. She could do this. She tried to pep talk herself, but even she felt unconvinced.

He stopped just a few steps from the entrance and moved forward. He was the lion and she was prey. He brushed his lips, dry and chapped against her cheek. He smelt like sweat and dirt, sour that left a bitter taste in her mouth. He smelt like too much cologne and lack of hygiene. Hermione resisted the urge to flinch each time he touched her, she tried to control her gag reflex. _Oh please no_. She was paralyzed, not knowing how to stop what was happening.

He reached to lower her hood, "no" she snapped like a band regaining control, thoughtlessly. Her heart beat frantically but she looked eyes fixated on his. She was standing some sort of ground, demanding some control. She wanted an exit, to scream for help but there was nowhere to go, and even the drug addicts had cleared from the ally. She could call, but on one would come. She felt paralyzed, waiting, her heart rattling against her ribcage.

He grunted gruffly and grabbed her waist. His fingered digging in. "you think you're so coy with your games, wench". Tears welded up at her in pain. His other hand grabbed at her shoulder moving to her chest. She just had to give the letter. Her lungs constricted and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She shoved him away, shocked, shaking. Bertrand Reislaught stood, firsts clenched, and his expression tightened. He stomped towards her, loud and angry. Hermione pulled out her wand, ready a defensive spell on the tip of her tongue. Her heartbeat, pounding in her hears. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He never made it to her, half a step to meet her, he collapsed, writhing on the ground. He choked up fluid, red streams leaving his mouth. He tried to say words, beg for help but these attempts were in vain. Hermione stood paralyzed and watching unable to move, unable to help. Shes not sure she even would if she could.

His eyes rolled back turning white as he convulsed foam gathering at his mouth. He shook, nails digging into the ground beneath her. She looked at him horrified and wondered with terror if she were next. Hermione panicked as he stopped moving. His head lolled to one side and body ceasing to spasm. She tucked the letter in his pocket. Careful and hoping he would be grouped with the drug addicts.

She tried not to think. Actively tried not to think not about what she had done nor if she would be next.

Noises came from the bar. Yelling, crashing, a glass thrown. She had to go, her hands were shaking, and she couldn't remember how to breathe but she couldn't stay here watching the dead body.

_Get a grip Hermione _she scolded herself. There would be time for that later.

Her relief came when her hands found the sickle sitting in the bottom of her pocket. Although she hadn't been instructed on its use Hermione trusted that it would work. Professor Lupin would save her. The coin warmed at her touch almost burning and focused on picturing Twelve Grimmauld Place. _Take me to 12 Grimmauld Place_ she asked. It was a guess, not knowing if the sickle could do such a thing. It burned, white hot but she held on.

Hermione felt the familiar pull at her core. Thrashing and violent the coin, much like a portkey, ripped her through space and she landed without any grace on the floor of Sirius Blacks bedroom. She had made it, to 12 Grimmauld Place


	8. Just for Tonight

_Authors Note Thank you all for continuing to read this story. As always reviews, likes and comments are always appreciated. Send me messages I always love to hear from you guys!_

Hold Me for Tonight

June 1996

The bedroom of Sirius Black is decorated with Gryffindor colors. The red and gold cover each object. Its messy, in an organized sort of way. Clothing thrown about but none on the floor, all sit on a chair. There are photo albums open and liquor bottles with crooked caps that sit on top of his dresser.

Sirius wakes up much before any time that is considered morning to the sound of a crash seeing a girl, whom he recognizes as Hermione flying to the ground. "damnit" he hears her mutter painfully. He finds himself smiling at the lack of profanity he knows _she_ would have used.

"Hermione?" he asks confused, sitting up tiredly. She doesn't acknowledge him but throwing a cloak off she all but runs to the attached toilet. Sirius rolls his eyes, striding after her. He was not stranger of the effects of too much drink, but it was curious behavior from the high-strung girl he was accustomed to sharing space with.

When he entered the loo, instead of a relieved or embarrassed girl sheepishly looking back at him, what he saw would haunt his nightmares for weeks. There was red blood everywhere, over herself, the floor, the toilet. Her hair dripped in the substance.

"Hermione..?" He asked uncertain, his heart thumping what he felt loud enough to be audible. His breath catches. She turns to face him, running the backside of her hand across her bottom lip to wipe. All Sirius can see is the whites of her unseeing eyes positioned in his direction.

Sirius having faced dementors still feels nauseous at the sight. He got on his knees beside her, taking tissue to wipe her face. "please don't" she muttered flinching at his touch, as he gathers her hair in his hands. Tears streamed down the sides of her face.

"What did you drink? It doesn't matter where you were, just please Hermione, what did you do" Hemione coughs violently but still shook her head. "I'mm..Im not supposed to say anything" she stuttered, afraid.

A mission, Sirius realized, the pieces coming together. She hadn't left because she wanted to, she had left because she had been called, was required to. Sirius felt the guilt in the bottom of his stomach. He had been rude, drunk and especially mean.

"I don't know, I wasn't supposed to drink it, but I couldn't get caught" her voice was raw, panicked and quickly whispered. Sirius rushed out of the room and Hermione bent back over the toilet in another painful expulsion.

When Sirius returned Hermione was sitting her arms wrapped around his knees.

"I can't see, Sirius why can't I see" she spoke panicked and scared. Sirius moved quickly adding droppers of some substances of other vials and pouring the mixtures down her throat. He dropped liquid into her eyes, and she screamed. He brought her close to him and covered her mouth with his hand, not thinking to cast a silencing charm. This was not something Remus needed to see.

"I know, I know, Im sorry" he muttered quietly, and she shook wracked with pain. "I'll kill them, whoever did this. They'll pay" he promised. When she opened her eyes, they were neither white nor the chocolate brown he was used to, instead the striking blue eyes he had not seen on years, rimed in red stared at him. His breath caught.

"Hermione.." he asked uncertain, his hands shaking. "Sirius" she asked, and in that moment there was no Hemione or Max there was just her. "please don't tell Professor Lupin" she asked softly. No one could know. It was bad enough, but she couldn't let more know. He nodded, knowing full well that Remus might already know, he had been _her _best friend. He nodded anyways; promising Remus wouldn't know not from words from his mouth. He gave her clothes and after a quick scorigify spell she changed into what was an old t-shirt and pair of his joggers.

He sat near her on the floor of his bedroom, felling desperate and helpless as she feverish trembled in pain. "I know you hate me, but just for tonight can you pretend you don't, I don't want to be alone" Hermione asked softly, and Sirius heart lurched in response. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you" he whispered, but he wasn't sure if she heard.

He then held her, for hours, past when his arm went numb into the early hours of the morning. He relished in the lavender way she smelled and though it was very different from Maxima who smelt dark; like a mixture of fire and rain. Smoke and whiskey. But now in this moment he was content with the closeness. Hermione was innocent she smelt like lavender and rosewater and her coconut shampoo. Sirius looks at her long, her smattering of freckles on her honey skin and the unruly mess of brown curls. She was pretty in the way girls could be pretty even before they were women. In the early hours of morning Sirius placed her in her own bed, a breath of relief when her eyes opened, seeing and she mumbled a soft "thank you" before falling back asleep. The blue still startling him.

Her room was almost empty, most of her possessions burnt in the fire but then again she hadn't arrived with much. The walls were green and silver, Slitherin colors, this had been his brother Regulus' bedroom. She hadn't decorated but for a singular photo, her, Ron and Harry laughing in front of the Hogwarts Express. He smiled, nostalgic. She had been happy, in this life at least, she had been happy.

Hermione moved restlessly in her sleep and when her shirt moved to reveal purple bruising he saw red, but it wasn't the time for questions and whatever had happened was over. He didn't wake her up like he wanted, demanding answers, but merely placed bruise salve on her bedside table and pressed his lips softly to her cheek.


	9. Missing Time

_Authors Note: I read all comments and reviews. Thank you for being patient with me as we continue on this adventure together. _

MISSING TIME

July 1996

Life at 12 Grimmauld Place had begun to find its pattern, Hermione would wake up early have tea and toast with Professor Lupin as they played the familiar game; Witch, Wizard or Muggle. The game consisted of listing authors of novels they had read and guessing their magical or lack thereof heritage. After breakfast Hermione would spend time working on reports determining patterns of behaviors that Dumbledore sent her or working on protection and healing spells. Now more than ever they seemed most important. Dumbledore hadn't sent her on another mission since, and she was far from asking for another assignment of its kind. The last, still flitted in an out of her dreams and nightmares at night.

No one had mentioned her new eye color, and Hermione wasn't keen on giving any explanation. Sirius had taken to avoiding her for the most part. Except for at night, before bed, she made both of them tea and they sat on the sofa in silence. For her it was a thank you, and for him it was solace; a reminder that Hermione was still alive. It gave me a reason to be in her presence, no reasonable British man could ever say no to a cup of good tea. Neither mentioned the nights where they both lay awake listening to the other call out into the dark.

"Bertrand Reislaught supporter of you-know-who found dead" Hermione read the front page of the days daily prophet. Despite knowing this already, she found herself unable to stomach her toast and tea. The few bites she did have lay heavy as cement blocks in her stomach.

Her head pounded, white hot and her stomach was reeling. She wasn't caught, and those who had needed to know, had been told. Dumbledore had barely reacted when she had told him, 'a truly unfortunate side effect of the nasty business of war' had been his only comment. What would be left of them after this war, was not a contemplation Hermione wanted to have.

"serves 'im right innit?" Remus commented to Hermione brining her back to reality. Years of fighting this war, losing this war caused to celebrate anything that could be a win. She nodded quickly her brain unfocused and foggy.

She tried to maintain composure as her eyes caught the month- _July_. She shook her head, she must be foggy, her mission had been last week, in _June. _She tried tracing back her days, but the heavy pounding to her temples only increased and no recollection provided an explanation.

"can't say I feel bad for him, but it's a bloody awful way to go, covered in your own spew" Sirius added from the doorway nicking a toast off of Remus' plate and biting into it. Hermione hadn't heard him enter, and wasn't accustomed to seeing him before noon but Hermione wasn't sure of much anymore, not the month, let alone the morning habits of Sirius Black.

She was a _murderer_. The thought oddly enough, did not lay heavy, he was an awful man. That much she was sure. Some voice in the back of her mind asked, _was he awful enough to deserve death?_ Hermione refused to entertain this, but the thought twisted unsettled in her stomach.

"how did they know" she asked quietly, refocused on the two men whose noses were buried in the paper.

"Hmm-?" Remus gruffed, looking up at her.

"the man." She paused swallowing "how do they know he did those things?"

Light streamed into the kitchen; the paper illuminated.

Hermione's hands shook, she was exhausted.

Remus set it down, completed in his reading. "I suppose they do research. But one can never be sure, reports can be fabricators of fact" they exchanged a knowing look.

Hermione was no stranger to this, her run-ins with Rita Skeeter had left no love for reporters. She had been written about as the school's harlot, sneaking off from one suitor to the next. The truth, Krum had only pressed his lips to her cheek and promised to write letters. He did, but she had no interest in sports nor he in literature so there was not much to chat about after simple pleasantries.

Hermione remained in the kitchen past the time of breakfast. She stared into her morning tea, stirring, past when it had gotten cold. If there were answers in the tea leaves, she did not find them. When Remus had left the room a few words about full-moon preparations, Sirius spoke: 

"is that him, the guy from last month. The-" he trailed off but there was no doubt to what he alluded to.

"Yes." She affirmed, curtly.

He placed his hand upon hers and squeezed. It was almost nothing, but to her it was everything.

He wore muggle jeans and tank top, it was hard for Hermione not to stare at the array of muscles, or the tattoos that danced across his exposed skin. she ached to trace her fingertips across them, know their meaning. She was curious. That's was all, just curious.

After a long lingering look he got up to leave, his hands shoved deep into the bottoms of his pockets. He paused, hesitating in the doorway.

"Hermione, it would do you well to be more careful leaving at night. Even I find it difficult to remain undetected without a silencing spell" He smirked, tipping his head knowingly in her direction.

It would have been a kindness, him reminding her to be more silent has she been sneaking out and he covering for her. As it were she could not remember leaving at all. All she knew was that she was sorely tired and that she was quite certain she was turning mad.


	10. The Exploding Witch

_Authors Note this chapter is a long one, enjoy! Please leave comments, likes and send me a message if you have any thoughts. _

THE EXPLODING WITCH

July 1996

Hermione was anxious. Too much nervous energy to sleep and too scared she would find herself weeks into the future if she did. She moved across the room, pacing, wearing into the flooring. Harry and Ron would arrive today, and Hermione was ecstatic and terrified at the thought of their arrival.

She played with the clasp on her watch, a gift from both harry and Ron whom had both been proud to have purchased the item, in the muggle world no less. It was too early to expect any arrivals, nor did Hermione know when either boy was set to arrive, but as she aimlessly paced the stretch of hallway from a porch side window to the front door. Despite not knowing where they were or when they'd come and she felt a soft ache each time she reached the door and neither boy was perched on the other side.

By midmorning, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were sitting in front of the fire whispering in what appeared to be an argument.

"you don't know what this could do" Remus began sounding cross.

"she never said that she stayed-" Began Sirius.

"nor did she say she didn't" Interjected Remus

"I cant have it" Sirius spoke almost sadly.

"why, where else can we-"

"You don't get how hard it is. Too look at her and see everything she is not"

"She was my best friend. don't think this isn't hard for me too" Hissed Remus

"she was my everything. This will destroy me"

"She destroyed you anyway" the comment lays heavy for a few moments and then

"she would do it for us" Remus claims, assured.

"we owe this at least to Maxima, she would've died for us" he continued

A long pause

"she did." Anger poured out of Sirius' voice.

Remus released a frustrated sigh and Sirius stormed upstairs slamming doors in his wake.

Curiosity filled her but she didn't dare interrupt, she had long ago learned when she when she was not welcome, and she stayed away. Yet she had some many unanswered question, time between Hannah's funeral and her arrival that she could not account for and fire that occurred during her slumber. It was times like this she had wished she had grown up with a magical family, then she would know if this was just magic or she should be worried.

"Professor Lupin?" she called out when she knew Sirius to be gone. The reflex of continuing to call him 'professor' was not unnoticed, but it tethered them both to a more stable time. Lupin quickly made his way to the kitchen where Hermione had perched herself on a barstool next to an open book turned upside to save the page.

"Ms. Granger, what can I do for you" he asked softly look up at the nervous girl. His heart felt for her, the girl in the before, she did not ask for it but yet she may be the one to suffer most greatly.

"what now? What do we do now? Where do I go" she asked, her eyes striking and blue looking up at him. She wanted an answer, yet he had none to give. Another meeting was due in the coming days but as for her, he didn't not know.

"you'll stay here for a while, as long as you'd like" his mouth moved to spill out words. This had been the argument this morning with Sirius. He had wanted her to stay, protect her, Sirius, understandably didn't want her to be here just to be ripped away, again.

"you've got throw of time before school and between you-know-what assignments and" he continued excitedly

" I've got an excellent literature collection, should you wish to peruse". For the first time since she had arrived over a week ago, her eyes lit up, and Remus despite knowing the wrath of Sirius that would be coming was content. Good news even the smallest satiating of worries was hard to come by.

"a spot of lunch and I can show you some of my favorites" Remus promised a soft smile, needing the distraction just as much as she. The words barely left his mouth before the door flew open and the screaming began.

"TRAITORS. IN THE SACRED HOUSE OF BLACK. MUGGLES. " the portrait of Walburga Black screeches as large amounts of witches and wizards entered into the house.

It happened almost both quickly and excruciatingly slow. Thoughts about removing the painting flitted through Hermione's mind before chaos erupted.

Pops of the witches and wizards tumbling out of the fireplace simultaneously as the door opened with a stream of people entered through the door lead by Arthur Weasley. Aurrors' stood at the back of the group their expressions grim.

"This way! don't get lost." Molly Weasley called ushering the group and the identifiable Ron Weasley and Harry Potter into the house, away from her. Fred Weasley looked up to meet her eyes as he passed and the terror in his eyes rang alarms in Hermione's brain. His behavior coupled with the massive bruises that adorned his exposed arm made for bad news.

Hermione moved forward to greet the Weasley's, Harry and Ron whom she hadn't seen since the last term ended. A voice calling her name stopped her in her place.

"Ms. Granger" Alastair Moody's gruff voice carried through the house. "I've been told you have experience in healing" he stood in front of her, his false eye twitching, wand pointed. She always thought the false eye saw too much. He breathes heavily "how much" he demands unblinking.

"last two summers at St. Mungos, top of the program" Hermione's voice trips over her words. Wishing she sounded more sure of something that was truth.

"we don't have time for this" an angry voice claims. Blaise Zambini stands in the kitchen protectively holding something. His eyes are rimmed red and lacerations cover his exposed flesh. Hermione cannot get close enough to see what he holds but she resists the temptation to direct her wand at the Slytherin.

"that will have to be enough" Moody grunts at her past training and clears the table with the wave of his wand before moving aside for Zambini to place a witch onto it. Suddenly it was real, it was no longer a time for a spot of tea and debating literature, they were at war and she was in the front lines. Hermione tied her hair up and rolled up her sleeves surveying her surroundings.

Moody is covered in red, he looks like he had showered in it, his face is bruised, his hair matted down with some combination of blood, sweat, dirt and only merlin knew what else. Hermione's hands fumbled at the wrappings that encased the witch, needing to see what she was intended to mend.

"SIRIUS" Lupin yells attempting to keep the panic out of his voice. All their minds were racing. These people were covered in blood. Hermione wasn't sure what was worse, if it was their own or if it wasn't. she shook her head; morality had no place in this anymore.

Hermione peeled back the wrappings that clung to the witches raw skin, her fingers trembling at the amounts of blood, the amounts of exposed bone.

It wasn't Moody that had Hermione jarred, it was Luna Lovegood whose piercing scream was filled with agony. She was soaked in blood, her clothing ripped to shreds. Her body was contorted in a horrific array of limbs and angles. But it was the scream, that scream which would haunt her dreams years to come.

"please-" the weak plead of Luna.

Molly Weasley was standing shaking against her husband. Her hair was singed in what looked like the remnants of a fire and she held her hand gingerly as she shook like a leaf in her Arthur's arms. A crowd of people, strange witches and wizards Hermione had never seen before, crowded in the doorway blocked by Sirius Black.

"Girl-" Moody barked "for Merlin's sake do something. We didn't come here to watch her die." He commanded.

Hermione approached the table and began with protection incantations warding off any spells of jinxes that may be awaiting. She surveyed the injuries, broken fingers, cracked ribs and gashes were blood flooded on onto hemiones hands. Her ears rung from the screaming, but for Hermione at least the screaming told her that Luna was still alive and that was a comfort if any.

Episky Hermione cast at the bones that had set in what looked like a painful and crooked manner. Luna screamed louder. It had only been a few days that the two girls had sat into the library going over the foreign relations of Europe and mathematical probabilities of the war. Drinking tea and remising about the past. Luna had been the only friend that understood. The only one in the Order.

Her anger, of someone cursing anything this grotesquely, curing _her_ friend fueled her aid. The skin on Lunas shoulder was melted off, skin that now ran like liquids coated the bone. She had never seen or hear of something like this before.

"Kreatcher." she called the elf demanding an array of medical supplies, she needed to fix this. She had to. Her hands shook and she clenched them to steady their movements.

"Mistress needs something" he snarled, glaring at her venomously.

"krEATCHER" Sirius reprimanded and the elf scrambled to do as asked.

Hermione's hands were wrist deep in blood, her wand casting spells and forcing potion after potion down the small girls throat. She couldn't think about the blood or register the screaming. She had to fix it.

As Hermione worked, Moody got out of the way fast. Remus followed quickly, one look at the blood and his eyes glazed over golden, his wolf begging for release either to protect, to save or to feast.

Blaise sat in the corner of the room refusing to move. He had offered to help Hermione but one look at his snapped wand determined he would do more harm than good.

"what happened" She hissed at Blaise, hoping for some explanation that would help.

"We were attacked houses and houses of Muggles and wizards alike. He said he created it, the spell. It was a gold flash and –" his voice died off as he angrily wipes tears from his face.

"It looks like a waterfall of gold .. she fell immediately but we couldn't get away and I swear I tried but there were so many and I had to protector but we couldn't get out and-" Blaise rambled on. Hermione didn't know him well, not in school, only a few words of praise from Luna.

"Blaise, you did you best. Now let me do mine" She spoke with a calmness, a surety that she did not feel.

Sirius entered the room his wand extended.

"muffulitto"

He murmured silencing the room; the others had been through a lot and only a few minutes was all it took for them to want to be anywhere but there. He still stood at the door, guarding. Perhaps it wasn't necessary, but anything that made him feel helpful and avoid just watching her. An animal he was, way too close to temptation.

Hermione release a frustrated noise. Each time Hermione got close to a wound; Luna would fight her off.

"I'm just trying to help, Luna please" Hermione begged, but it was very likely that Luna couldn't not hear, in any case she made no adjustments to the behavior.

"Sirius" she called abruptly dragging his attention back to the present.

"I need you to hold her down".

Sirius could see the pain in the request, the fraught way in which she attempted to soak up the blood and the fierceness in which she was determined to help.

Sirius knew what happened next, he leant is help but his concern was for the witch healing not the one on the table. _She_ never said it was this bad.

Sirius held the resisting witch down, and Hermione got to work, muttering incantations and drawing runes to heal the skin. Her hands were hot and began sparking magical energy wrapping her hands as she worked. "keep going" was all he remarked, and with no time to falter she did.

Slowly several of the more curious witches and wizards entered the room, trying to get a better look. "get out." She hissed "If one of you sets another toe into this kitchen I will hex it off, I am angry, and I am tired. Do not cross me" she all but growled at the group who quickly removed themselves from the room.

Fred Weasley, however, stayed "please just let me help" he asked almost softly. while Sirius wanted to fight unwilling to share any time with her, Hermione was already moving aside and gesturing to Fred the worse injuries. The two continued side by side Hermione drawing ancient runes and Fred with intricate spell work. Even with the effort and magical energy expended the wounds never seemed to heal permanently.

Despite all this, It was Luna's left leg that has seen the worst. The skin was peeled back to expose bone and the bone was shattered; the shards piecing the flesh. What used to be skin was melted and a yellow fluid coated the appendage. Sirius had his hands holding Luna down, who had never stopped wailing, but he didn't miss the nauseous look Hermione had as she use all her willpower not get sick all over her patient.

It took hours, painstakingly removing each shard and sliver of bone that had made its way into the flesh and mending it back to bone. Hermione was ready to cry with relief and begin repairing the skin when the worst began. As the last bone was removed skin and bone began to dissolve traveling her and higher up her leg.

"are you bloody kidding me" let out Blaise.

Sirius too, let out a colorful string of words that, had it been any other day, would have colored Hermione's cheeks. As it was, she quite agreed with the sentiment. Fred, uncharacteristically was silent, casting with speed a plethora of spells. Hermione looked at Fred and finding no more hope or optimism than she felt, she went to her last resort.

"Snape. I need Snape. Tell him phoenix feather and blackonix beak. Hurry." She demanded casting her Patronus and continued counter curses and prayed they could keep it at bay until help arrived.

Luna screamed now. Louder than before. Screamed into horrifying decibels. And then the words weak but unmistakable "just let me die".

Hermione prayed to Morgan and Merlin all the Witches and wizards that support her for help. She prayed to gods and goddesses she didn't even believe in. Anything for Luna.

Her hands glowed amber and then purple and she found herself muttering incantations she had never heard of, but while it slowed the spreading never stopped. The edges of the wound now charred as if there had been a fire. And Hermione whispered to Luna "The world is not ready Luna Lovegood. We still need you. Don't you dare give up. I still need you"

Luna looked at her, her eyes wide and rasped "You are strong. you will continue. You must"

Bloods splattered onto the floor and dripped down Hermione's elbows. It covered Fred's collar and streaks touched his face. She forced down a sob that threatened to burst free. The metallic smell of blood burned her nose.

"Hermione? Fred? Zambini? I found Snivillus" Sirius called bursting in the room with Snape right behind him groaning as Snape's foot connected with his shin. The room was immediately warded and sealed shut.

"What do you need?" Severus Snape asked taking in the room. Heaps of bloody towels and garbs lay on the floor basins of bloody medical tools and the magic energy overwhelming hit him in the face. It was dark and intoxicating brushed up against his own. He internally cursed at the familiarity.

Hermione looked bad. She was covered in blood and oozing substances, her wand hand shaking as she struggled to uncork a potion. Fred paused his own wand movements to open it for her. He did not look any better. He was covered is bruises and blood and looked worn. It was one of the first times the professor could remember the twin to be alone or without a smile. It boded for bad things.

" phoenix feather and blackonix beak and blood replenishing" he handed the first to her immediately and she poured the substance over the wound. The solution bubbled and when it subsided raw pink skin had taken its place. They all exhaled loudly. That was good. This was good. They could do it.

Severus took the blood replenishing and tipped it into Lunas throat. He did the same with the skelegrow. No one questioned it. Hermione looked exhausted. Fred looked like a strong wind might blow him over. Blaise Zambini looked ready to explode; Snape was all the familiar with the emotion.

Lunas fragile new skin cracked like ice, the wound spreading through the body faster than magic could contain it. Purple lacerations littered the skin surrounding the new wounds and the skin burst open spraying blood in gallons over Hermione and her help.

"no no no no" Hermione hisses as flesh detaches itself and is flung around the room. The sentiment is reiterated by the others in the room but Luna, lovely Luna was finally silent.

In a final but grotesque convulsion yellow liquid sprays from the erupting wound and catches Hermione. The poison disintegrates her shoulder of her shirt. Nobody moves even Hermione who can smell her own burning flesh can't force her muscles to react to grab her wand.

It is Snape is moves first casting a spell onto the wound. "dittany" he says placing a bottle on the counter.

Hermione looked shell shocked at the girl who had become one of her closest friends. Luna had small butterflies pinned in her hair, that ,while matted with blood, looked like spun gold.

Hermione didn't speak. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She held her friends body then, knowing she had breathed her last. She cradled her body amid the rotting flesh and blood. She brushes Luna's hair out of her face and shut her eyelids. Blaise sinks from his position leaning against the wall to the floor his head in his hands.

"Hermione" Fred speaks softly.

He pulls her away from Luna's body and into his arms. Hermione does not return the embrace but neither does she fight it.

"dittany for the wound, it'll scar" Fred suggests but Hermione shakes her head

"I need to remember this" she whispered. This failure. She needed to remember. She needed to solve the problem.

Fred nodded. He knew better than to argue.

Sirius watches Hermione as room shakes, Hermione's magic opening cupboard doors and teacups throw themselves onto the floor. He feels her anger. Her devastation. The loss. Fred looks at her a mix of fear and sadness as she shoves him away.

Sirius approaches, unafraid of the power or the volatile energy she was emitting.

"Hermione" he calls bring her attention to himself.

"Look at me" he commands authoritative.

She looks at him now her blue eyes swirling with purple. Her hair stands on edge and she is shaking. He wraps her into his arms and despite how she resists at first she accepts. He holds her as she screams into his shoulder smearing both blood and tears. She calms in his arms, and some small part of him feel guilty for taking advantage of a bond she doesn't yet know or understand but this is not the place to allow her to lose control. She didn't have that liberty. Her violet magic hums against his, both an old friend and new acquaintance. It is the color of midnight and chaos and still he holds the small witch tightly, protectively.

"I'm so sorry birdy" he murmurers into her blood-soaked hair. She doesn't reply.

The only noise in the silent room is the sound of Blaise Zambini breaking. He screams then. A string of profanity leaving his mouth. Threats to all those who associate with Voldemort and he him himself. Zambini screams a harrowing, devastating sound.

He presses his lips to the crown of Luna's head whispering, his arms wrapped around her "my little lunabird how am I going to know if I have nargles. What.. if I have mrugspurt infestation. I..I love you" His voice shakes, his hands unsteady.

He emits a scream them, soundless and violent. Hermione as long as she would live, would never forget that sound. The sound of having nothing left.

"take her upstairs" Sirius gestured to Fred and he moved towards Blaise and Luna. She was infected with a devastating curse that couldn't be allowed to spread. He body tensed at what he would have to do next. He didn't want _her_ to see it.

"No" Hermione refuses adamantly and gathers Blaise in her arms. She didn't need the comfort or the shower the were awaiting her if she went along with Fred. Blaise embraces back tightly, almost painfully as he was trying to cling towards sanity. It didn't matter that they belonged to opposing Hogwarts houses, or that they hadn't ever had a proper conversation. They shared the moment, this violent devastating moment in a way that only the two of them could.

Hermione dragged Blaise upstairs by the hand. She knew that Lunas body would need to be burned, and neither of them could handle witnessing that. Sirius nodded as she left, he would take care of the rest.

Hermone sat with Blaise as he bathed, her back turned on the other side of the tub as he bathed the blood away. She did not hesitate when he held his hand, and neither spoke when she began sobbing herself. She knew his loss as he knew hers.

Hermione politely handed him a towel keeping turned for her privacy exiting the loo as he got dressed. She only casted a quick scorigify on herself, enough to remove the visible blood not enough to feel clean. A she turned to leave after making sure he had gotten into bed he grabbed her hand roughly.

"stay" he asked softly

"I don't want to be alone" he spoke quietly. She nodded and lay next to him until he fell asleep, promising herself that if only for Luna's sake she would protect him.

Hermione did not sleep much that night but the magical drain that the day's events had taken forced her into a restless slumber. That night she dreamed of Luna and she dreamed of death.


	11. Severus Snape

SEVERUS SNAPE

July 1996

Hermione is frozen still, a combination of exhaustion and magical drain that leaves her locked in a slumber-like state when Severus Snape walks in.

Hermione, a lover of knowledge, a self-proclaimed bibliophile, craving each and every opportunity for knowledge, found over her years at Hogwarts, she had begun to despise the dark and oddly damp potions classroom and the bitter professor who taught it.

He just sits for a while, staring at her in way that looks almost shockingly human. He does nothing more for a few long moments than just stare.

The air in the room is cool and she can hear the sounds of voices echoing from other parts of the house. But in this room, this Slytherin green room, it is painfully silent as if a stasis spell had been cast.

Snape grasps her left hand abruptly and brings it to his lips. He cradles it almost gently and lets out an anguished noise from the back of his throat.

"Oh Maxima" he sighs running his fingers through his long inky hair. Blood is caked in the beds of his fingernails but no more evidence the earlier evenings horror are left on his person. Instead he smells like sulfur, bergamot and smoke, Hermione is thankful for this.

"you know, I think I see you sometimes. A market, or pub. Only the quickest moment just the back of a witch quickly escaping the room. Not this you, granger, but the right version. I miss you." His voice shakes at the pronouncement. It is devastatingly silent.

Hermione holds her breath. Her heart rattles against her ribcage, violently. Her jaw tightens, aching. This is uncharted territory, she does not know what comes next. Her heart hits anxiously in her throat. _One morgana Two Morgana three Morgana_. Hermione counts the silence in seconds.

Severus Snape then does the second most unexpected thing that day, he sobs. An anguished cry of a broken man escapes. He is shaking, his cool cheek resting against hers as he shatters, his emotions spilling onto her. Hermione, kind empathetic Hermione is horrified by this. She is repulsed and worse she's not sure why.

He composes himself moments later uttering a promise

"I'll protect her. Granger. I'll make sure she succeeds." He promises almost manically. Hermione isn't sure why she needs protection,

Severus Snape then presses his lips to her forehead. His face is damp, but Hermione doesn't dare move or speak. Something didn't make sense, but she didn't dare interrupt her potions professor and key him into her cogence state.

He moves gracefully his robes billowing behind him as he exits, and a Hermione almost smiles at the familiarity. There was so much strangeness in war. So much pain. Anything consistent was to be treasured.

Hermione steals a final look from beneath her eyelashes, looking for reason behind the strange behavior. There is none. Instead she finds certainty of only this, calm and collected professor Snape is terrified.


End file.
